Hermione Nott
by dismiss
Summary: Hermione enters a new timeline in 1938 as an eleven year old twin sister of Theodore Nott (Sr.) and a daughter of a man who wrote the 'Pure-Blood Directory'. If that wasn't enough, she is about to become a classmate of the one and only Tom Marvolo Riddle. If you were given an opportunity to rule, would you take it? AU. Eventual TRHG.
1. The Partial Reassignment

**A/N: So this is the story that has been in my head for ages. I love a Tomione pairing. I feel like they could be either perfect adversaries or a true power couple given the right circumstances. Hopefully, I will be able to portray them as I see them in my mind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first chapter and I would also like to thank all the authors that write Tomione for inspiring me and for helping me, as well as others, to actually visualize the pairing.**

 **Ps. For those of you that read Merlin's Box (my other in-progress story): This story is quite similar, in terms that Hermione is thrown back in time (sort of) and that she starts at eleven and has a twin. In any other way, the storylines are different. The reason for the similarities is just that I want her to have a perfect cover and not need to explain where she came from. Plus, as I mentioned in the MB, it helps with the paradoxes. Lastly, I promise you that writing this doesn't affect the time spent on MB. Actually, it rather helps when I'm stuck.**

 **Pps. I would just like to warn some of you that Hermione in this fanfic will be technically a pureblood. I know some people hate when that happens.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.**

* * *

Chapter One- The Partial Reassignment

Hermione Jean Granger, 1998

As I lay there, trying to fight Bellatrix's _Crucio_ , I felt my life slipping away. This was it, wasn't it? I wanted to survive, I really did, but this was too much. I didn't think I could hold on for much longer.

I heard Ron's voice, shouting for me, but it became more and more distant at each torturous second. Then I heard Bellatrix asking me about the sword. I lied. She knew I was lying, I could see it in her face. And yet, her posture visibly relaxed. She wanted to believe my lie. Why, though? Why was the sword so important to her? Was it the sword that was important? My mind was clearer now, I could think. There was something else in the vault.

She took a break from torturing me. They wanted Griphook to confirm my lie. I prayed that he would. She seemed more relaxed now. As relaxed as Bellatrix could be. Maybe she realized that if we did get the sword from Gringotts, she would already know about it. But what sword was in Gringotts then? Must have been a copy. A good copy.

She started torturing me again as I knew she would. Not with a _Crucio_ this time; with a knife. It dug into my forearm. It hurt more than the unforgivable; must have been a cursed blade. I screamed louder than I ever have. Was she spelling something? Yes, she was. I knew the word. It has been shouted at me so many times by so many different people, especially Malfoy. _Mudblood._ Such a stupid term, it barely affected me anymore. So meaningless, pointless. I felt my head getting heavier and I knew I was going to pass out. What I _didn't_ know was if this was the last thing I was ever going to see before I died.

* * *

I opened my eyes. I was alive. I was still at the manor.

I could see Harry and the others making their way towards me. Was that… Dobby? I was surrounded by chaos. Spells were going in every direction. I felt someone grab my arm. Ron. But something wasn't right. I should have not been awake; I should have been passed out. I didn't know how I knew it, but I did.

I was standing up, not sure how I was able to do so. Ron looked at me; he was surprised for a second, but then helped me up. He said that we needed to get out of there. I knew that. Just as he was about to grab Dobby's arm and disapparate, my eyes locked with Bellatrix's. She let out a growl and threw her knife at me just as we disappeared.

We've done it. I was beyond happy. We've actually got out.

Why did it feel wrong?

* * *

When we arrived I looked around. We were at a beach. Didn't Bill live near a beach? That must have been where we were.

I heard Ron's scream and I turned my face to look at him. He was looking at me with a strange expression on his face. Shock, maybe? I looked down. Bellatrix's knife was in my stomach and I was bleeding. A lot. I fell down. I could barely feel anything; must have been the adrenaline rush. Ron said something and grabbed my bag. He was looking for something. Ah, yes, the healing salve; of course.

"It won't help," I said, or rather whispered.

"Don't say that!" He shouted and continued his search.

"Ron," I let out a breath. It hurt to talk, it hurt to breathe. I knew I didn't have much time left. "It's a cursed blade, the salve won't do anything."

"No!" He was getting angry now. "I can't lose you, 'Mione! I can't!" He shouted through tears. "We already got through so much, we can do this."

I looked at him and I saw so many emotions in his eyes. We wasted so much time bickering and fighting these past few years. We could have been together. And now it was too late. The feeling of regret filled me up.

I forced myself up a bit so I could close the distance between us and kiss him. I caught him by surprise so he didn't respond straight away. And then he did. We kissed for what seemed like eternity, but were probably just a few seconds. I didn't want it to end but all my strength was leaving me. So I stopped him and lay back.

The adrenaline was leaving my system and the pain subsidized. I screamed. I felt my body shutting down. I was going to die any moment now.

"Don't leave me, Hermione! Don't you dare leave me!" He cried. "I can't survive without you. _We_ can't survive without you," he said and I think he was talking about Harry. Where was Harry? "Fight this, 'Mione. I know you're strong enough to live through this."

Was I? I've been fighting for so long; I didn't think I had any strength left in me. We were so close to destroying Voldemort. So close to the happy ending. I knew they would win without me. They would be fine. The few regrets I had now were that I wouldn't be able to see the demise of that venomous, despicable creature and that I wouldn't be able to kill Bellatrix myself. I usually didn't wish death on people, but I really hoped that by the time this all ended, she would be in hell.

I looked at Ron. I needed him to know what I found out.

"Bellatrix. She has a horcrux in her vault," I whispered to Ron just before the pain consumed me. I hoped I was right. I knew he was saying something, but I could barely hear anything anymore.

I saw someone apparate in the distance. It was Harry. He saw me and started running towards us. But he would not make it in time. He was my friend, my brother. He was always by my side when I needed him. I owed him a goodbye. But it was too late.

As I drew what was probably my last breath, I saw my life flash before my eyes. My parents, Hogwarts, Harry, the Weasleys, Yule Ball, the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore's funeral, Bill's wedding, the forest, Ron leaving, Ron coming back, the Snatchers, Bellatrix. I expected it to end there, but it didn't. It kept going, but it didn't make sense anymore. I saw a dragon in Gringotts, the Chamber of Secrets, the Room of Requirement, Molly killing Bellatrix, Voldemort's demise, my wedding to Ron and two beautiful children hugging me before they boarded the Hogwarts Express. I saw myself getting older, having grandchildren, laughing with Ron. Finally, I saw myself die. Peacefully; in my sleep.

I didn't know what that was. Probably a delusion. I wanted to live. I wanted that life. I was only eighteen. I really did not want to die today.

But I died anyway.

* * *

I opened my eyes. The first thing I noticed was that I was lying on grass in some sort of a field. Wasn't I just on the beach? The second thing that grasped my attention was that I felt no pain whatsoever. Something was wrong. Where were Ron and Harry? I searched my mind for some clues and the realization hit me like a bag of bricks. I was dead. This was probably the afterlife or something along those lines. Surprisingly, I didn't go into shock. I still had a feeling that the whole situation was not quite right, but all that aside, I felt… Calm, I think. Content, sort of. I wondered what happened now. Was there any way to find out if Harry succeeded? How much time has passed?

I stood up and tried searching for… I didn't know what I was looking for, but I had to do something.

I glanced down for a second. I was wearing a white flowery dress. It felt weird, I didn't like dresses. I wanted my jeans back. Just as I finished the though, I felt the dress changing. When I looked down again, I was wearing jeans and a simple white t-shirt. Much better. It felt like I was in the Room of Requirement. That gave me an idea.

"I want to know where I am and what has happened to me and my friends," I said out loud and wished for the best.

"Hello, Hermione," I heard a musical female voice behind me and turned around. The field scenery dissolved at the same time and I found myself standing in my favourite Transfiguration classroom.

The woman in front of me looked a bit like Luna, I concluded. She had pale skin, long silky blond hair and was wearing beautiful lavender colored robes. She was also giving me a very calculating look, as if I was a puzzle that she was trying really hard to solve.

"Hello," I said finding my voice. "Where am I?"

"Well, Hermione," she started and cocked her head to the side. "You are somewhere that you really should not be at this point in time."

"What?" I questioned taken aback.

"You were never supposed to die at that beach," she said calmly. "There was, let's just say, a small misunderstanding," she answered.

I heard an angry snort and turned around to see an irritated looking girl sitting in one of the chairs. She was about ten or eleven, wearing what seemed to be very expensive vintage looking robes.

"Who is that?" I questioned the woman.

"Another misunderstanding," the woman answered.

"A misunderstanding?!" The little girl shouted. "How dare you! Do you even know who I am?"

"Was she not supposed to die too?" I turned away from the tantrum throwing child and looked at the Luna look-alike.

"Oh no, she was supposed to die, alright," the woman answered. "Her path leads to an early death in every timeline."

"Charming," the girl scoffed behind me, probably rolling her eyes.

"What do you mean in every timeline?" I asked.

"There are different magical timelines or realities all happening simultaneously, never meant to cross paths. In some of them good wins; in others it is the other way around. Thousands upon thousands of decisions influence the ultimate outcome. Once you die, your magic comes here and is reassigned to a differently conditioned reality. It helps it develop," she explained. "Your death is a big problem to us because you are what we call a 'game changer' in most of your timelines; including the one you just left."

"I am?"

"Yes. Without you there is no win or lose. In any timeline the side you choose to help tends to have an advantage. It's how your magic was designed. The accidental removal of your magic from the system made it quite unstable."

"Okay," I answered slowly trying to take it all in. "So if I wasn't meant to die, send me back. I need to help my friends."

"It's not that simple," she answered. "You are dead already. You died in your friend's arms. I am a magic guardian; I'm not supposed to turn back the time. I can only manipulate the timelines as they progress."

"Magic guardian," I whispered. I remembered reading about them. They were supposed to be a myth. "Then why am I still here?" I questioned. "Shouldn't I be reassigned?"

"That's where she comes in," the woman pointed to the little girl. "Your timelines have crossed by accident and you died instead of her. We brought her magic for rebirth and reassignment anyway, but her body is still technically alive. You will take her place," she stated as if it was no big deal.

"I what?" I said at the same time the girl, who was strangely silent before, shouted, "she what?"

"The balance needs to be restored and we cannot have a body without any substance in it. Your magic-" she pointed at me, "is supposed to develop in its current state. While you-" she nodded at the girl, "are scheduled for a full reassignment." She continued looking at the child. "The only reason you're still here is because I have to transfer your knowledge of your timeline to her," she gestured in my direction.

"You cannot give my body to her," the girl sneered. "Look at her. She won't know what to do with it. She will ruin my family's name. Just kill me and get it over with."

"I had just about enough of you," the woman answered and in a second the girl was unconscious. She looked at me afterwards, "Are you ready to go to 1938?"

"1938?" I looked at her, shock in my eyes. "That's when…Voldemort started Hogwarts," I concluded. "But wait, didn't you say you cannot manipulate time?" I asked truly confused.

"And I won't. Her timeline is at that time right now," she explained.

"Oh. Okay," I took a deep breath. "Will I remember my previous life?" I questioned. There was really no other reason for her to explain everything otherwise.

"You will," she confirmed my suspicions.

"But why? Do I have a mission? Am I supposed to kill Riddle or save him?" Was I supposed to kill a child who hasn't yet committed the crimes?

"You don't have a mission, Hermione; you can do whatever you want," she stated. "What happened to you was our fault and we have a protocol for these situations. You will have your knowledge so you can influence this timeline in a way that you weren't able to influence your last one. It's our way of apologizing. Plus, removing your memories would only remove the essence of your magical force and not fix the unbalance."

I felt overwhelmed. "Is this my only option?"

"Unfortunately."

I sighed. A new beginning. I could do this. And Voldemort was only a child, which meant I could stop him. I could give Harry his parents back; give everyone the relatives that they lost back. Maybe even stop prejudice while I was at it. At least in this timeline. "Okay," I nodded. "So, who is she then?" I gestured at the unconscious girl. "Whose life am I taking over?"

"You are about to find out," the woman said and pointed her wand at me.

* * *

Hermione Jacqueline Nott, 1938 - Before the Reassignment

As I lay here, on my exquisite four poster bed with emerald green curtains, surrounded by Egyptian cotton and all things luxurious, I felt my life slipping away.

It really was quite unfair. I was eleven, this should not have been happening. I was about to start Hogwarts in a few short months. Let me clear that up. I was about to _rule_ Hogwarts in a few short months. I was a Nott and we Notts were the purest of the pure. So pure, my father was qualified enough to write a book about it. We held the power, the status and the wealth. According to my father, our family was as old as the magic itself. And yet, I was dying from some muggle disease nobody knew the name of; that neither magic nor galleons could fix. Ironic, wasn't it? My father refused to let a muggle healer look at me. He would rather let me die than spend a second in the presence of dirt. Just as well. It would have been too late anyway.

I was intelligent and talented. I've already mastered my Occlumency (something that all Purebloods were taught from the moment they showed signs of magic), already read through the first and second year Hogwarts course material, as well as some extra darker texts from the family library. Not to mention I've learned to control my magic by the age of five, for Merlin's sake. Yet, I was the one who was dying.

I was rather pretty too when I was not dying. I had shoulder-length straight hair that was either dark blonde or light brown depending on how you looked at it, olive-ish skin and blue eyes. Lovely combination, if I did say so myself. I would've definitely grown up pretty enough to use it to my advantage or to marry any pure-blooded boy I wanted. If I was given an opportunity to grow up, that is. Which I was not. Because I was dying.

Not that I would need a man for my plans; of which I had many, by the way. However, my father kept saying, " _Alliances through marriage are more than advantageous, if you do it correctly."_ And he was right, of course. Nothing intimidated people more than a right name. And intimidated people were far more _accommodating._ If you added vast wealth to that, there was virtually nothing that could stop you. And if you put in a bit of effort and intelligence into the mix, you might as well start shopping for the throne right then. Which I won't be able to do. Because I was dying.

Oh, I was also so conniving, I scared myself sometimes. I didn't even agree with my father's ideals. I mean, of course I believed that most muggleborns were inferior to me, but not because of their blood. That was stupid. They were inferior to me because they didn't hold any power in the magic world. They didn't have connections, they knew absolutely nothing about how the things were done in our world, they only started learning about magic once they started Hogwarts (which put them so far behind they obviously couldn't really be expected to keep up) and, most importantly, a lot of powerful purebloods hated them and wanted them gone. Even if their magic was strong, they had no chance of success, because of the prejudice. Because of all that, they were expendable. Quite a pity, really. This whole hatred could so easily be used to manipulate and gain control, it was ridiculous. Sometimes I wondered if others thought the same and, like me, called them mudbloods because it was beneficial to do so, or actually truly believed the inferior blood nonsense like my family. I would never find out, though. Because I was dying.

So unfair. I was so much smarter, so much better than my twin brother Theodore and he was the one who got to live. He was the one for whom my father would actually consider muggle treatment, if the need arose. All because he was the one with the ability to provide an heir that would continue the family name. I, on the other hand, was not important enough to keep. Any grandchild I could offer would not be Nott enough for my father.

Don't get me wrong, my father adored me. He would have loved for me to get through this. I was his little girl; A child, who followed his orders to the T, never did anything crazy; a true picture perfect type. Not perfect enough, however, to soil his reputation by inviting filth into the house. He spent a lot of money on the best magical treatment to keep me alive longer, but that was as far as he was willing to go for his little pureblooded princess. To be fair, though, he did not really know how powerful I could become with time, how intelligent I already was or what a perfect little Slytherin he was losing. And he wouldn't ever find out. Because I was dying.

My eyes closed on their own, I was surrounded by darkness and I knew this was the end of me. Knowing it didn't make it better, however. I wanted to live. I deserved to live. I was only eleven. I really did not want to die today.

But I died anyway.

* * *

Hermione Jacqueline Nott (previously known as Hermione Granger), 1938 – After the Reassignment

I woke up with a sudden intake of breath, sat up and looked at my surroundings. It wasn't a dream.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm a Nott"

* * *

 **A/N: And that was the first chapter. What did you think? I know that the whole travel to the 1938 process was crazy, but I swear it made sense in my head and I wanted to use something different that what I did in Merlin's box.**

 **Anyway, please follow and/or favourite and/or review if you liked it or have some constructive criticism. And if you hated it… Well, I'm sorry and I wish you all the best in your future fanfic exploration.**


	2. Meet the Family

Chapter 2- Meet the Family

I was surrounded by my new family, while sitting at the most unnecessarily huge dinner table, which was made of, what I assumed to be, the most expensive wood, metal and glass. Nobody talked or even looked at each other, rather choosing to concentrate on their own 'thing'. It was painfully awkward. And it has been that way ever since I woke up as a Nott two weeks ago.

To say that my new parents or my brand new twin brother were overjoyed with the news of my miraculous recovery would be a massive overstatement. They were more like, oh I don't know, pleasantly surprised. The whole situation felt like I was suddenly thrown into a nineteenth century novel about England's most stuck up and proper family of nobility.

First there was my 'mother', Helen Nott (née Selwyn). She was an only child and also the last child to be born with a Selwyn name. Her whole family fortune was now tied in the Nott family, which she tended to throw in her husband's face every time they had a disagreement.

She also cared about her looks more than about pretty much anything else. For the last two weeks I didn't see one strand of her long black hair out of place and even the memories I had from the previous Hermione failed to provide an image of Helen Nott looking less than perfect. She was gorgeous and she wanted everyone to know it. Actually, because of her name, I suspected that my own name in this timeline was inspired not by Shakespeare, but rather by Greek mythology and, probably, so my mother would be associated with the title 'the most beautiful woman on earth', not because it sounded nice for a child. Then again, Hermione in the story was described as beautiful too, so perhaps that had something to do with it after all.

It sounded like I was making my new mother seem shallow, but, really, the woman truly was. The only time she showed actual human emotions, was when her precious Theodore was involved. Parents weren't really supposed to have a favourite, but Helen obviously didn't get the memo. Theodore was her perfect little angel heir, while I was my father's responsibility, apparently. I wondered if that was just how it was supposed to be in this time or whether she just viewed me as future competition for her beauty crown. It sounded beyond ridiculous, but I wouldn't put it past her.

Theodore loved our mother's attention, of course. Almost as much as he loved the attention he got from everyone else. He was as spoiled as any heir to a powerful pureblooded family; a mirror image of a young Draco Malfoy.

Just as Malfoy, he would join Riddle. I was sure of that not only because it happened in my timeline, but also because he was a natural follower. Theodore always listened to our father. More than that, he believed every single thing and viewed it as law. He also was easily manipulated by me; or rather by the previous version of me. A few well-chosen words that didn't contradict his father were all it took. If I chose not to get involved, Riddle would have his first follower after all of ten minutes.

It was such a pity. I always wanted a brother I could have amazing conversations with. Moreover, with that slightly wavy brown hair and blue eyes, Theodore looked almost like the one I imagined in my childhood. He was also my twin, which meant we were supposed to have a special connection. Unfortunately, if the two weeks and my new memories proved anything, it was that we were connected only by name.

I wondered if I could change that. Maybe if I showed interest, he would gradually become more of a brother figure. Maybe he already cared. After all, the previous Hermione didn't express her feelings, but she still cared about her family in her own messed up way. Furthermore, maybe if we had a stronger relationship, I could help him become an individual as opposed to someone who would die fighting someone else's fight.

My eyes settled on Cantankerus Nott. My 'father'. He was a well-build man and, just as his two children, had light brown hair, which probably meant that it was somewhat of a family trait. However, differently from his wife and children who all had the same shaded blue eyes, his eyes were brown; almost black, in fact. I wasn't sure I ever saw that combination on a man. It looked weird to be perfectly honest; it didn't fit his complexion at all. It also made him look more mysterious and ruthless, which I was sure he was happy about.

While Theodore was a follower, my father was a born-to-be leader; an ultimate pureblood. Truly. He actually believed in the blood purity and considered it to be the most relevant sign of class. I couldn't understand how the 'Pure-Blood Registry' was only rumored to be written by him, given that he didn't stop bringing it up to anyone who would listen for the whole time I was in this timeline.

In addition to his writing hobby, he was also a businessman. Well, actually more of an investor; and not the silent kind. He expected everyone to agree with his ideas and never stray from a path he drew for them. The funny thing about that was that everyone did what they were told to do. Not because they thought he was right, but because nobody wanted to go against a Nott. The connections my father had were rivaled by absolutely nobody.

It really made me question what went wrong. In my timeline Notts were powerful, but they weren't at the top by any means.

Perhaps Theodore wasn't able to keep up. He probably wasted more than enough time and the family fortune helping Voldemort and being his errand boy to not be able to establish his own personal power.

Maybe I could help with that.

But then again, how much impact did I want my presence here to actually have?

And speaking of me, oh that was a whole another level of madness. The memories that I now had of the last eleven years in this timeline were quite disturbing. If that girl wasn't destined to die, she could have easily taken Voldemort's part in history. Even he was at least a half-blood and had to create his power from scratch; to convince his followers they wanted to submit to someone who wasn't really one of them. My previous version, on the other hand, had everything she needed to rule already. She also knew so much about magic. My new family's library probably had the biggest collection of dark arts literature there ever was. It was actually fascinating how truly unfair the magic world was to me and all the muggleborns in that regard. Not about the dark arts education, but the information in general.

I knew all those spells by heart now, though. Because she memorized them. Because she was getting ready to rule.

The weirdest part of the whole experience was how her memories made me feel. I always believed that memories made a human being who he or she was. And I thought I was proving myself correctly right now. Over the past two weeks, I noticed that some of my thoughts did not completely sound like me; they were influenced by the previous Hermione's memories. A lot. And they were changing who I was at the same time. What came out of it was a new Hermione- not as wicked and scheming as the little girl before her, _thankfully_ , but not as forgiving and righteous as the previously known Hermione Granger either.

I wasn't sure I was alright with that, but I didn't think I could stop it even if I tried.

However, was that change actually bad? Could I not benefit by being more Slytherin-like? Would it honestly be that horrible to use my new inside knowledge and position for _the greater good_? Merlin, I hated that phrase.

I had everything needed to rule this world. Plus, I was told to do whatever I wanted. Of course, I could never use Voldemort's methods to reach the top, but I could use the influence that my family had to reach positions that I, as Hermione Granger, might not have ever even dreamed of. Using connections, I could probably become the minister of magic and if Riddle wasn't a threat anymore at that point, I could make some serious changes.

Riddle. A problem that the wizarding world didn't know it had yet.

I was weighting my options regarding the little boy.

On one hand, I could kill him. At this point, it probably wouldn't even be that hard to do. He was currently mortal and completely new to magic; it was the perfect timing. On the other hand, he was an eleven year old orphan who was rejected by pretty much everyone he met up until Hogwarts. Even then, he didn't really get close to anyone, did he? He was only followed, feared, admired by some and avoided by others; he didn't have a single meaningful relationship for all I knew. And he was going to grow up in a muggle world that was going through an actual war. Was it really a surprise that he turned out as he did?

Was I naïve to think that my presence in this timeline could make him less psychotic?

Whether or not he was evil, nobody could deny that Riddle grew up to be extremely powerful, charismatic and intelligent. He was also destined to command, despite the fact that he had some serious daddy issues. If I chose to seek power and he was on my side, he would be a very valuable asset.

Or a huge liability, if he wasn't.

In any case, I also had to consider the fact that killing him now would create a lot of uncertainty in the future. Who knew what would happen if there was no Tom Riddle at Hogwarts? What if someone new, who was even more deranged, took power instead? What if the world became worse? Riddle was someone I knew and actually done research on. Who could tell if a known evil was worse than a threat of a new one?

I decided to set myself a deadline for finding that out. If everything happened as before, Riddle was going to try to kill Myrtle in five years, followed by killing his father that same summer. After that he would create horcruxes and so on and so forth. Therefore, I could give myself up to five years to try and get him to my side. If I succeeded, all was good and well; and if I didn't- well, I would just have to become stronger than him, kill him and hope for the best.

It was alarming how casually I was thinking about murder. Granted, I was planning the assassination of the Dark Lord himself, but when I was in my own timeline, killing him was a non-avoidable act, one that I didn't technically even had to perform, not a simple thing I didn't mind doing if it was useful. And the fact that, in my mind, I still used the 'for the greater good' defense sent chills down my spine.

I couldn't think about that right now, however; I had things to do.

Everyone got their Hogwarts letters today, which meant Riddle had his talk with Dumbledore. And if I was right about him, he wouldn't waste any time getting to Diagon Alley tomorrow. It was a long shot, but I was curious. I wanted to meet him. Maybe it would help to decide what I wanted to do.

"Father," I turned to the head of the table. "Would it be possible for me to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow? I would like to get my Hogwarts supplies."

The fact that I almost had to shout so that he would hear me from the other side of that ridiculous table made me almost roll my eyes.

"Have you got your letters then?" He asked.

"Yes. Today, actually," I confirmed.

"I don't see why not then. I'm sure your mother will be happy to take you and your brother," he looked at his wife.

"Of course," Helen Nott agreed. "We can go tomorrow at noon."

"Thank you, mother," I said.

The whole formality of the conversation made me cringe. I really missed my parents.

* * *

"Is Miss ready to get dressed for Diagon Alley?" My reading was interrupted by my personal house elf.

I was far from happy having an elf, obviously, but at least the Nott family didn't really mistreat them, because they were, apparently, above that. The elves were still unpaid and not free, which rubbed me the wrong way, but they seemed to be happy to serve the ancient house of Nott. Silver linings.

However, I still couldn't help but think that it might have been nothing more than a move on my father's part to make them more trustworthy and loyal. I wasn't sure, but it really seemed like something Cantankerus Nott would do. Then again, maybe I was giving his intelligence too much credit.

Either way, a decent treatment of the house elves helped me to stay in character and keep up appearances. I wasn't sure if I could pretend to be the perfect little Nott, if I had to witness someone punishing a being that loved nothing more than to help any way it could.

"Yes, Binksy," I finally answered. "Do you know if mother and Theodore are getting ready as well?"

"Yes, miss. They should be ready in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Binksy," I smiled at her. "Please pull out my green dress and some black flats."

When I first met Binksy, I told her I could take care of myself. That was a big mistake. The elf got so disappointed, I thought she would do something drastic. Like bang her head against the wall repeatedly drastic.

For now, it was probably better for both of our sakes if she did the easy chores I assigned to her.

Furthermore, having the memories of the previous Hermione made me see that house elves wanted to serve and thrived on serving their families. I understood it now. However, that did not mean the elves couldn't do it while they were free and paid for their hard work; not to mention while they were treated fairly by all families they served. Malfoys in particular. Sooner or later I was going to make that happen, especially since I found out I could spin it to be an example of pureblood etiquette.

"There you go, miss," the elf said putting the dress on the bed.

"Thank you. That'll be all," I said and Binksy left.

* * *

I was rather quick dressing up and was first to reach the fireplace, which gave me a little bit more time to think about what I was about to do. Going to Diagon Alley should never be this stressful.

What if I was right and Riddle was actually there?

I still wasn't completely sure what was the right way to approach him.

I couldn't pretend to be a girl with a sudden crush. Not only because I wouldn't be able to pull it off, but also because I didn't think he would care or be interested. He would probably just roll his eyes and leave.

I also couldn't be too friendly. I didn't think he would go for that either; he was too mistrusting. Moreover, he probably wouldn't consider me to be his equal then; at best, a possible follower.

That left either trying to act as a moderately interested pureblood, a superior pureblood, or just a plain rude pureblood.

All of those options could make Riddle notice me, which I was sort trying to go for. However, being rude could put me on his bad side and that might not be that beneficial to my plans; or my future health.

Ah, decisions, decisions.

"Hermione, you can go first,"my mother said entering the room with Theodore in tow.

"Of course," I answered and picked up some floo powder. I didn't have time to come up with a proper plan, which meant I would have to wing it, if I actually saw Riddle. "Diagon Alley," I shouted, stepping into the flames.

* * *

 **A/N: Second chapter! Can I get a woop woop? Haha Anyway, what did you guys think? I want Hermione to be more manipulative and powerful in this story, which is why I included the idea that the new memories were forcing her to change her ways. I feel like otherwise it would be randomly OOC for her. I am not planning to make her change completely, however; I still love Hermione Granger the way she was written.**

 **Anyway, thank you all so much for reading this story! I am so happy you gave it a go and I'll try not to disappoint you in the future. In terms of updates, I don't want to set up a schedule, but I'll try to update this fic every 2-3 weeks.**

 **Please follow, favourite and/or review. Your support means a lot to me and I appreciate criticism as long as it's constructive. Thanks!x**


	3. The Alley

**A/N: Hello, I'm back! Instead of apologies and promises to post quicker (Which, I hope, you know I'm trying to do), I've decided to ask you a question that has been bothering me. If two muggleborns have a child, will that child be considered a half-blood, muggleborn or some sort of a new status? There is a poll in my bio where you can vote, if you want lol**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new chapter and thank you so much for reading!**

* * *

Chapter 3- The Alley

Appearing in the Leaky Cauldron wasn't as nostalgic as I thought it would be. Not only because I remembered the place from my new Nott memories, but also because the place was a dump. Even more so than in my timeline, if that was even possible. Dirty tables, drunk wizards (if was ten in the morning, for Merlin's sake), clearly hangover wizards, no source of light whatsoever, and a few families that looked completely unsure of their decision to come in, a.k.a muggles with their muggleborn children.

"Let's go children, I hate this place." My mother said nearly pushing us forward as soon as she stepped from the fireplace. Her expression was one of disgust and I honestly couldn't tell whether that reaction was for the state of the establishment or due to the presence of muggles. Either way, we reached the entrance and opened it in record time.

"Finally," my mother let out a breath.

Now the Diagon Alley was a whole new story. I could almost believe that they kept the Leaky Cauldron that disgusting not for muggle discouragement, but solely for the purpose of making the Diagon Alley look more fascinating.

The only thing that took the word 'perfection' away from the place was the huge mass of people running around; particularly, those extremely frustrated parents, trying to figure out what they forgot to buy, while their little demons of children refused to stay still and, more importantly, silent.

It was just as crazy as when I was Hermione Granger.

To be honest, that wasn't the only similarity. I looked around and noticed that very few things were actually different here. I already knew that from the memories, of course, but seeing the alley in person made it more real.

It was 1938, but besides the twin joke shop, which only appeared in my sixth year, nothing else was missing. While the muggle world changed constantly with new buildings, companies and inventions, it seemed like the wizarding world pretty much stood still. I wasn't sure it was a good thing, but that was a topic for another day.

Today my focus was on, hopefully, running into a small dark-haired boy; which, I now realized, was not going to be easy, since I only had an idea of what he looked like. Not to mention that I wasn't sure he even came here today. Oh well.

* * *

We went to Gringotts first and, while I expected a completely different experience than in my past life, it was actually more surreal. Even my predecessor's memories couldn't fully prepare me. Despite the fact that blood meant little to goblins, money was a different story. And since my family was, at least for now, the wealthiest in the wizarding world, we were treated like royalty. None of that 'every client is equally important' nonsense. We were greeted before we were even through the door.

Even the cart we rode in was way more luxurious, with plush seats and whatnot, which I didn't want to but couldn't help but be happy about since the ride was extremely long. I almost let out a happy cry when we stopped.

"Nott family vaults," the goblin announced, letting us out of the cart. "Which ones would you like to be opened Mrs. Nott?"

There were four vaults that I could see. My new memories told me that there was the family vault, the Nott business vault and the two 'trust fund' vaults for me and Theo. Plus, while it was already a lot, the vaults themselves were enormous. Not to mention that there was a huge dragon guarding them.

The dragon made me stop for a second. It was a confirmation that the flashback before I died was actually real. After everything that happened, I suspected it, but this was a proof.

I was supposed to live a happy life with Ron and our children.

"I think only the family one for today," my mother announced, disrupting my thoughts.

"Very well," the goblin nodded and led us to the vault in the middle, while using clankers to keep the dragon from attacking us. I could see that the poor animal was shying away from the sound, which meant they used pain in its training.

It was utterly barbaric and stupid. There were better ways to keep the vaults safe. Getting away from the dragon was not impossible; Harry did it in our fourth year and, apparently, I was supposed to use one to get away from this bank in my past. If anything, the tortured animal was the perfect mode of transportation for thieves.

Still frustrated I entered the family vault. There were, unsurprisingly, piles and piles of gold, with not a single sickle in sight. It was only one of the vaults, but it already had five times more in it than the vault from my flashback.

However, it was not the money that captured my interest.

On the right side, there were bookcases as high as the vault itself. I could see that on some of the shelves there were small boxes that I suspected held family heirlooms, but the majority of the space was occupied by books and scrolls.

I nearly floated towards them.

First editions, hand-written notes of praised wizards, the rarest texts that Hogwarts library could only dream of having, the darkest texts that the Black family wished to even look at – everything was here. They belonged in a museum or at least in some sort of a national wizarding library. It was a crime to keep them in this vault. Personally, however, I couldn't complain. After all, they were mine to read now.

"Mother, may I take a book from here?" I asked noticing that my mother was ready to leave already.

"Just one, Hermione, these books are extremely valuable," she answered at pointedly looked at her watch as if to say 'hurry up'.

I looked around trying to choose. There were so many options, even the first edition of _Hogwarts, A History_ was here.

I had to think with my head, though. I needed something useful.

After skimming through the titles again and ignoring all of the first editions and the classics, I finally settled on _The Key to Mastering the Art of Legilimency._

"I've made a decision," I said handing the book to my mother.

She looked at the book and then back at me before nodding with approval, "good choice."

Was it normal for a mother to support her daughter's decision to learn to read and manipulate the minds of others? I really wasn't sure anymore.

* * *

"Helen!"

We were on our way to Olivanders when a dark-haired woman with two extremely pale and blonde children caught up with us.

"Luciana, what a pleasure to see you," my mother said with, what I knew to be, a fake smile and air-kissed the woman on each cheek.

Only then did it register that I was in a presence of the Malfoys. My "friends" apparently, if the new memories were to be trusted. The other thing that I realized in that moment, was that Abraxas Malfoy named his son Lucius after his mother. That was gold; even if I couldn't share it with Harry and Ron.

While our mothers exchanged pleasantries, Abraxas went to talk to Theo after greeting me, while the girl (Adelaide, my mind supplied) came to me.

"Oh, Hermione, is it not amazing that you get to go to Hogwarts?" She said, positively beaming. "I cannot wait to go next year!"

"Yes, it sure is wonderful," I answered trying to sound superior.

Previous Hermione was horrible to Adelaide and I didn't want to seem that out of character. In fact, the Hermione from my memories treated everyone horribly. It was her way of showing who was in charge. It didn't get her any real friends, but definitely created some admirers as well as enemies. A tactic, she probably learned from the dear old daddy.

I wasn't sure if I would be able to pull it off, but if I couldn't, at the very least I had to try and 'phase it out'.

"Did you get your wand already?" Adelaide said still excited.

"No, but we are going there now." I answered looking at my mother for confirmation.

"Yes, we should really go," my mother sighed dramatically. "I am sorry to cut this short, Luciana, but you know how these things go. Let's get together for tea soon, alright?" she offered.

"Of course." Mrs. Malfoy air-kissed my mother goodbye and left with her kids.

"Bye, Hermione!" Adelaide all but shouted, "See you soon!"

"Bye." I politely smiled. She wasn't bad; actually, she was kind of nice. Maybe we could actually become friends later on. Then again, she was a Malfoy.

"Merlin, I hate that woman," mother announced leading us to the wand shop.

"Why?" I was curious. Weren't purebloods supposed to love each other and hate just about everyone else?

"Well," I suspected Helen didn't expect the question. "She constantly tries to out-do me. Not that she could, obviously," she scoffed, "but it is still a, how do I say it, a problem that needs to be sorted out."

I was beginning to think that my father had nothing to do with the previous Hermione's ability to manipulate others.

* * *

Olivanders seemed to be uneventful up until the point that the wand in my hand reacted.

"A yew wand with a dragon heartstring!" Garrick Olivander, who looked like a crazy scientist no older than twenty, announced. "What an interesting combination; you will definitely show up in future history books!"

"Uhm, thank you?" I offered.

"No need, no need," he laughed. "And what an interesting day. Yew wands choose their wizards extremely rarely and here I am selling the second one in the same hour! Albeit, that had a phoenix feather," he said thoughtfully.

"A yew wand with a phoenix feather?" I held my breath. It was Riddle's wand; which meant he was here. I was right!

"Yes. Just sold it to a peculiar young gentleman," said Olivander. "He is also starting this year. I'm sure you both will achieve great success. Yew wands don't choose mediocre people."

"Thank you," I said and turned to my mother. "May we go to the bookstore now?" I was sure I would be Riddle's last stop.

"No, I think we should get your robes fitted first," mother announced.

I groaned.

* * *

It took nearly half an hour to get a stupidly huge amount of clothing fitted; and that was with the somewhat special "I am rich, do it faster" treatment. Then, of course we had to get our cauldrons and other potion-related necessities. And, obviously, we had time to look at the brooms, because Theo wanted it.

The only shop that we didn't go in was Magical Menagerie, which I wouldn't have minded missing Riddle for if there was a copy of Crookshanks there. But then mother had to quote father's famous, "If it doesn't serve a purpose, it doesn't have a place in our house" nonsense and so we skipped it. Well, at least we were finally in the bookstore.

What if he already left? Worse, what if he was still here?

While mother went to the clerk to try and get the needed texts, I went exploring. It was ridiculous how many dark-haired eleven year olds were here. Honestly, every one of them could be Riddle.

However, my eyes settled on one boy in particular as soon as I saw him. It had to be Riddle.

The boy looked, what was the word for it, groomed. His clothes weren't new by any means, but they were obviously well kept. His hair was dark and neat; he obviously used gel to create that vintage wave. Well not vintage, since it probably just became popular now, but anyway. He seemed in control of himself and his appearance, which was a complete opposite from other boys his age running around.

The dead giveaway, however, was the book he was examining. I read it in the past. _Charms and Curses,_ if I remembered the title correctly. I, of course, read it for the charms, but I could see that he was turning the pages to where the curses were.

"It is a horrible book. I would not recommend it even to my enemy," _which you sort of are,_ I added in my mind.

He looked at me then, his expression guarded and yet somehow still a bit hostile.

"How do you know?" He demanded.

"I've read it, of course. It's much too simple," I said in my know-it-all voice. "The charms section is abysmal and not only do they not cover basic curses, but the ones that they do would not harm a fly, let alone a first year student who had one defense class," I concluded.

"I did not see any other introductory books on curses," he simply stated.

"Yes, well Hogwarts is not very into teaching curses," I said. "But it can be easily remedied," I smirked and said a bit louder, "Binksy!"

"Yes, mistress?" The elf instantly appeared in the shop. It was fascinating how their magic allowed them to apparate anywhere.

I could see the look of shock and mild interest on, hopefully, Riddle's face. Game on.

"Please bring the _Dark Arts: Book 1_ from my room," I ordered.

"Of course, mistress," the elf bowed and disapparated.

"What was that?" Riddle questioned. Although, it sounded more like an order to answer.

"Do you not know what a house elf is?" I tilted my head innocently.

"No," he reluctantly grounded through his teeth. It was so obvious he hated to be kept in the dark.

"Oh, well they are magical beings that serve mostly the oldest wizard families. Extremely loyal," I finished. Oh how good it felt to know more than Voldemort.

I could see that he looked at me in a different way now, with his mask in place. Probably realized, that it would beneficial to have me on his side.

He might've wanted to question me further, but Binksy appeared once again, book in hands this time.

"Here you go," I presented it to Riddle. To myself I justified the gift as a means to an end. He would get the information sooner or later; there was nothing in that book that he wouldn't find out on his own at some point. I was ninety percent sure it wouldn't speed up his evolution to becoming Voldemort.

"You're giving it to me?" He asked, confused. I doubted anyone has ever willingly given him things; he always just took them.

"Why not?" I smiled. "We have more than one copy and I've read it already."

"Okay," he said slowly. It didn't escape me that he was not going to say 'thank you' anytime soon, so I've decided to move one.

"Oh where are my manners," I chuckled. "My name is Hermione Jacqueline Nott," I extended my arm. There it was, a moment of truth.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said while shaking my hand.

I don't know why, but I always imagined him to be cold. Cold-blooded and all that; like a snake. After he returned in my timeline, I think he actually was. Not that I had an opportunity to check. Not now however. It was just a normal hand.

Yet, a hand that might kill thousands in the future.

It would be so easy to just get rid of him now, this year. It wouldn't even be hard to justify it. After all, he was Voldemort. How much hope was there for him?

But I had a plan for myself in this timeline and I was going to stick to it. I'm sure there was a 'Hermione' currently fighting with all her might against him in another timeline.

"It was interesting meeting you, Tom," I let go of his hand. "I'm sure we will see each other on the train. You're starting this year as well, right?" I questioned.

"Yes, I am," he stated and then silently added, "See you soon," before leaving.

"Could've been worse," I muttered to myself before going in search of Theo and mother.

* * *

 **A/N: So, what did you guys think? Yes, I know that Malfoy probably didn't have a sister and that his mother's name probably wasn't Luciana… But I wanted it to be, so… here we are hahaha.**

 **Please follow, favourite and review! Cheers! xx**


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